Thaw
by Spider RedNight
Summary: Spoiler warning. This describes my OC as she goes through the last conversation with Alistair concerning killing the Archdemon and her final thoughts as she performs the Ultimate Sacrifice. AlistairxOC, but that makes sense. Rated T for mild language.


This… this was it. Alistair, Wynne, Oghren and I stood basically victorious, the dying Archdemon gasping for breath two hundred feet away. A small band of mages stood behind us and the corpses of hundreds of darkspawn bled at our feet. Each of us sighed with relief under our hot armor… Well, save Wynne. We were so close, and all that had to be done was the finisher to the large dragon. We all saw it coming; I wasn't afraid. I would do it quickly and painlessly; it was what had to be done, after all. Bravely, I started to walk forward when Alistair suddenly stopped me by walking ahead of me and standing in between me and my duty; to slay the Archdemon and die in the process. He looked determined and sorrowful simultaneously, and I knew what he was thinking.

"Wait," He said, looking at me through soulful brown eyes. I gazed back through my own brown eyes, looking up at the human I had wanted to share a life with before realizing that it was one big Romeo and Juliet fairy tale. "Let me. There's no need for you to die. This is my duty. I should be the one to kill it." I tilted my head slightly, my white hair reflecting the light from the fires around us. Part of me was honored that he would risk his life to save us, and part of me was frustrated with his brashness. Several weeks trying to put him on the throne, and he was willing to throw it all away? Especially knowing who would inherit the throne if he didn't: Anora. She had me thrown in prison for trying to rescue her. It wasn't a pretty picture, and I realized I'd rather die than live with her as queen.

"And what about becoming king?" I asked rather shortly, straightening up and crossing my arms over my rough drakeskin armor. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other irritably, all the while glaring at him through narrowed brown eyes. It was so weird… One of us would end up dead, and we were having this regular conversation like we always did; he would end up goofing around, and I'd firmly reprimand him for being so devilishly charming and childish.

"Anora can rule. I never cared about becoming king, you know that." I was shocked; I knew he didn't want to become king, but to give it up and let ANORA become queen? I resisted the urge to slap him for thinking of such a thing. I made sure Anora was put in prison for the things she did to us, to me. However, I said nothing and let him continue. "And this right here is the best king I could be, my first and last act being to stop the Blight before it really starts. No one could blame me for that, could they?" I certainly could. It was a worthy motion, but incredibly stupid and not well-thought out. I was sure I wasn't the only one who would rather have Alistair as king instead of Anora as ANYTHING. He was friendly, she was callous. He was personable and somewhat childish, she was serious and acted too mature for someone her age. While it was understandable seeing as her father was Loghain, but he DID kill her husband, after all.

"…I think you would be a good king, Alistair," I hesitated before replying. I uncrossed my arms and looked away from him; I really did think he would be a great king, but I suppose if he died now, there's be little point, wouldn't there?

"Really?" He asked, and I looked back up at him. He wasn't smiling, but I could tell he was about to make another Alistair-worthy, childish remark. "I think I would make a piss-poor king." There it was. "I don't know the first thing about it." I wanted to tell him so badly that it wasn't something that could be taught and, luckily for him, he already had what it took. How I wished he would listen to me. How I wished I had the power to change him like that. "So you needn't feel guilty about letting me do this. I want to do it." Liar. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want either of us to do it. Even if we couldn't be together, he wanted us both to live. Even though he had something to go back to; A kingdom, a potential family, a duty that was larger than committing suicide and letting Anora take the throne. I looked down and clenched my fists to tight they started quivering. I could feel myself starting to cry. No, I wouldn't let this come to be. I shook my head as I looked back up, shaking the tears out of my eyes, shaking everything else out of my mind.

"I can't let you do it," I said, looking back up at him. I could tell my eyelashes were glistening with tears, but I didn't let myself look any weaker. He looked back down with his handsome, partially rugged face and good-natured eyes. They looked pitying, sad, mournful. I turned away from him and faced Wynne and Oghren, but not really looking at them. I raised a one of my fists and opened it slowly. Dried darkspawn blood sprinkled it along with some of my own from pulling the taut string on my bow so rapidly, so rather desperately to get rid of the darkspawn and the Archdemon. I nodded once and clenched my fist again. "I'm sorry." Slowly, my white hair rustling slightly in a gentle breeze, I walked away from him without waiting for a response. Wynne and Oghren parted respectfully as I glanced at the ground in contemplation, mind rushing with all the thought of the previous weeks.

Tamlen and finding the mirror. Becoming dangerously ill, a fate that guaranteed death until the wise Duncan of the Grey Wardens offered to whisk me away from my clan to become a Grey Warden myself. The Joining, the war at Ostagar. Living and Morrigan joining our party. Finding Imprint, my loyal hound. Becoming acquainted with Bodhan and his charming "son" Sandal and having Leliana and Sten to join our party, as well. Helping Redcliff defend itself against the undead and having. Going to the Circle's Tower, being trapped in the Fade with Niall… My mind rested there for a second. I wished I could've… Allowing Wynne to join. Going to Redcliff Castle to cure the arl's son, only to have his wife die in the process. Finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure the arl. Solving the dispute between the northern Dalish and the Werewolves. Going underground, to Orzammar, finding Oghren. Destroying the Anvil and Oghren joining. Attempting to rescue Anora, only to have her turn her back on us at the Landsmeet. Alistair versus Loghain, ending in Loghain's death. Encouraging Alistair to take the throne. The Blight, the Archdemon, the final battle… It all led to here. It was unavoidable; we saw it coming; I wasn't afraid.

I turned slowly, gazing ahead and ignoring those around me. I was determined; I could see it writhing in pain. I glanced around carefully, noting what I could use. I was a rogue so, naturally, I didn't have anything large or heavy with me. I had long since abandoned my bow as soon as I realized it wouldn't help me anymore. Then, as if it was fate, the hilt of a handsome and clean sword impaling a fallen comrade glistened in the firelight. My eyes rested on it; that's what I'd use. I readied myself to run, run towards the sword and then run for the Archdemon. But before I did, I glanced up at Alistair. He had the same pitying look on his face. I looked at him for a moment, then slowly smiled and nodded as if to say, "It'll be okay." I looked over at Wynne and Oghren. Both of them also had solemn faces. I smiled at them, too. I guess my rogue-ish charm wasn't gone, yet. I glanced ahead again, and took off.

I made a quick, yet graceful dash for the glimmering sword and yanked it out of the corpse fluidly. I hurtled towards the dragon as its head thrashed and twisted, like a snake pinned to the ground. I glared up at it, running faster than I had ever in my life. It roared and lunged for me. I made a slide and raised the sword, going under it and slicing it along it's neck before ripping it forcefully from the Archdemon's skin. It roared again, a sound of pain and hatred before letting its head fall to the ground. I stood and turned, gritting my teeth and flaring my nostrils. It was almost done, and I was going down with it. I walked towards the snarling beast, raised the sword above my head, and let out a proud yell before sinking the blade into the Archdemon's head.

Immediately, everything started glowing white as an evil force was being released. The force tried pushing me away, but my hands were clenched onto the hilt too tightly to care. As everything got blinding, I felt immense pain on every inch of my body as I felt the demon's spirit start to enter me. My body was racked with pain, my mind telling me to let go of the blade. I started yelling with either indignity or torture as I clenched the hilt tighter. Everything turned so white, I closed my eyes and withheld the excruciating pain. I bent over, digging the blade deeper and keeping my feet rooted to the ground even though some unnatural force was pushing me back, trying to get me to release my hold. It had to have been almost over, it HAD to…

Suddenly, an explosion. No matter how hard I would've tried, I was flung back. My eyes were closed, but I could still see the blinding white light as everything around me faded. I landed on my shoulder, but it felt like nothing but numb. My whole body was numb…

I opened my eyes slowly to find Alistair looking into my face. He was blurred, but I could read his emotions; sad, distressed. I could tell he was holding me like a mother would lovingly to her only child. How was I not dead yet…?

"I think… it's over…" I gasped for breath, panting heavily and taking in each breath carefully. Alistair nodded quickly and erratically, his own breathing rapid and strained, as if he were trying not to cry. That failed, however, as I felt two tears land on my bloody face. In the background, Wynne and Oghren also looked at me, but it was too fuzzy to tell what they looked like.

"Yes… Yes, it's over," Alistair whimpered, breathing quickly and trying to suppress his tears. The pain was gone, but I could feel him quivering against my own limp body. Slowly, agonizingly, I reached up and wiped a tear from his eye. My arm fell to my side heavily again. "You did it… You did it…" He encouraged, picking up my arm and holding it tightly, yet gently at the same time. Using the same hand, he worked his way up to my own hand and fitted his thick fingers between my own slender ones.

"We… did it," I breathed. "It's… all over," I said quietly. He nodded erratically again, more tears falling onto my face. "You'd make... A good king," I panted, my breathing increasing. He whimpered more, but I didn't have the strength to comfort him. It was torturing, but it was all I could do to say…

"…I… I love you…" I gasped weakly, smiling slightly. He couldn't handle this and broke down, laying me down and putting his head on my chest as he sobbed aloud. His hand holding mine fell to the ground as he held me tightly.

"I-I love you too. I love you so much," He wept into my chest. My sight flickered and I closed my eyes. He was still crying on me, but I didn't care; he felt so warm compared to my cold and stiff body. "I love you so much…" I heard him whisper one more time before everything turning white. My breathing ceased, and I faded away.


End file.
